Trudi Canavan lives in Melbourne, Australia. She has been making up
stories about people and places that donłt exist for as long as she can
remember. Her first short story, ęWhispers of the Mist Childrenł, received an
Aurealis Award for Best Fantasy Short Story in 1999. When she recovered from
the surprise, she went on to finish the fantasy novel-that-became-three, the
bestselling Black Magician Trilogy: The Magiciansł Guild, The Novice and
The High Lord followed by another trilogy, Age of the Five. Last
year the prequel to the Black Magician Trilogy, The Magicianłs Apprentice
was released and she is now working on the sequel, the Traitor Spy Trilogy.
One day she will write a series that doesnłt contain three books.

 

* * * *

 

The
Mad Apprentice:

A
Black Magician Story

 

Trudi Canavan

 

 

The
sumi pot rose in the air seemingly of its own volition, tilted and poured the
hot drink into her cup. Indria looked at her brother. He grinned, and she
rolled her eyes.

 

ęI see your magic training is
coming along well, Tagin,ł she observed.

 

Tagin waved dismissively at the
pot as it settled on the table again. ęThat was nothing. First year exercises.
Boring.ł

 

Sipping the hot drink, Indria
considered her brother over the rim of her cup. His eyes were bright and he had
fidgeted constantly since arriving. This usually meant he was in a good mood.
When he was hunched and glowering she had to be doubly careful what she said
and did, as his temper was much easier to spark. But something was different
about him today. Though he was cheerful, there was a hint of tension in his
movements, and his eyes kept darting about the room.

 

ęIs what youłre learning now more
interesting?ł

 

ęWith Magician Herrol teaching
me?ł He sniffed derisively and looked away. ęHardly.ł

 

Indria suppressed a sigh and put
down her cup. Tagin had been an apprentice magician for over two years but,
like with most of his obsessions, he had grown impatient with his training and
teacher. Usually he found something new to engage his brilliant mind. But magic
was no hobby or pastime. It was supposed to become the source of his income and
place in society. If he ended his apprenticeship, rather than remaining until
his master taught him higher magic and granted him independence, he would not
receive income from the king, or attract work from the Houses.

 

ęPerhaps if Magician Herrol moved
back to the city to the Guild it would be better. Youłd have a greater
variety of teachers.ł

 

Tagin sneered. ęHe suggested it,
but whatłs the point? All the Guild magicians are like him: stuffy old men. Iłd
rather be away from them, but close enough to visit you.ł He smiled. ęYou
wouldnłt want me to leave you all alone with Demrel for company, would
you?ł

 

Indria grimaced. Lord Demrel was
an excellent husband, according to her family. Hełd improved their connections
among the Houses, earning them valuable favours in trade. He was wealthy and
generous. But he was also a boorish, possessive man, and old enough to be her
father. Growing up with her volatile brother had taught her how to handle
difficult men, and Demrel was a lot less troublesome than Tagin. But she hated
how Demrel treated her like a child and an idiot.

 

Tagin may be a handful, but he
doesnłt think Iłm stupid,
she thought. And at least he loves me in his way.

 

ęWhen we rule the world, Iłll
build us a palace in the city,ł Tagin said, his eyes flashing. ęWełll get rid
of Demrel and all the boring, old magicians.ł

 

She smiled at this familiar game.
They had played it since they were children.

 

ęWhen we rule the world, Demrel
and the Guild will search all the lands for gifts to lay at our feet,ł she
replied.

 

He grinned. ęWhen we rule the
world ...ł He paused as his attention was drawn elsewhere, toward the windows.
Indria listened, and heard the sound of galloping horses.

 

ęVisitors,ł she said. ęI wonder
who it could ł

 

She faltered as Tagin leapt to
his feet and hurried to the windows, stopping a few steps short and peering
down at the courtyard below.

 

ęAh. Rot them,ł he said in a
sullen, resigned tone. ęI have to go.ł

 

ęWhat is it?ł Standing up, she
moved to one of the panes of glass. Directly below them three horses milled.
Their riders wearing the uniforms of higher magicians were handing their
reins to the servants who had greeted them. One looked up at the house and saw
her. In the corner of her eye she saw Tagin duck back out of sight. She glanced
at him, then down at the magicians, and felt her stomach sink.

 

Theyłre here for Tagin, she guessed. And this is no
social visit. But she knew from long experience not to speak such thoughts
aloud. If she was right, Tagin might jump to the conclusion that she had
already known they were coming, and perhaps even betrayed him to them.

 

ęWho are they?ł she asked.

 

ęMagicians,ł he told her.

 

ęI can see that from their robes,ł
she said crossly. ęWhat are their names? Why are they here? Do they want to see
Demrel?ł

 

ęThey want me. They want to kill
me.ł

 

As she turned to stare at him, he
smiled crookedly. Sometimes Tagin believed everyone wanted to do him harm. Even
herself. She shook her head.

 

ęWhy are they here, really?ł

 

His smile faded. ęI did something
bad.ł He turned away and strode toward the door.

 

Indria rolled her eyes. ęWhat
this time?ł

 

ęI killed Magician Herrol,ł he
told her, without looking back.

 

She stared at his back. Hełs
joking. Tagin might have a temper, and a cruel sense of humour, but he was
no killer. He had beaten servants and horses and, when a boy, had been inclined
to torment her motherłs pets, but hełd never killed anything.

 

He opened the door. From beyond
came the sound of voices and footsteps, growing louder. He closed the door and cast
about, his gaze suddenly flat with terror. ęHelp me, Indria,ł he said
helplessly. ęIłve got to get out of here!ł

 

Her heart twisted. He truly
believed they meant him harm. And when he was in this mood it was better to let
him run away and hide than try to reason with him. Hełd calm down and return
later. If the magicians believed Tagin to be a murderer they might try to kill
him before he had a chance to calm down, explain himself and prove his
innocence.

 

She beckoned and started toward a
side door. As they passed through it into a narrow corridor she considered
whether shełd be punished for helping him. Surely not. If she claimed to be too
frightened to do otherwise, the Guild would see her as more of a victim than an
accomplice.

 

But is there still some truth to
that? she
wondered. Am I still scared of Tagin? She thought of the bruises hełd
given her, before shełd learned to avoid rousing his temper or to calm him
down. After shełd married he hadnłt dared hurt her, lest Demrel notice and stop
him from seeing her.

 

Yet if I thought I could turn him
over without either of us getting hurt, would I?

 

Probably not. He was her brother.
Beneath the temper there was a fragile, lonely boy with a clever mind. She
would not want to see him imprisoned. Hełd go mad madder than he already was
if he was ever locked away.

 

They reached the door to her
husbandłs study. Taginłs footsteps were loud behind her as they entered the
room.

 

ęYoułre lucky Demrelłs away. Hełd
never let you in here,ł she told Tagin as she moved to a large wooden cupboard.
ęOpen this for me, will you?ł

 

He narrowed his eyes at the lock
and she heard it click open. She pulled the doors apart and slid aside the bolt
locking the inner doors. Cold air rushed in from the narrow cavity beyond. ęTherełs
a ladder. I donłt know where it comes out and I donłt want to know but it
must be safe or Demrel wouldnłt use it.ł

 

His eyebrows rose. ęWhy doesnłt
it surprise me that your husband has a secret way out of his own house?ł

 

ęI only know about it because he
got stuck one day and nobody else heard him shouting for help. He wouldnłt let
me get any of the servants. I had to pull him out all by myself.ł

 

Taginłs lip curled in disgust. ęYou
should leave him and come with me.ł

 

She shook her head.

 

ęBut you hate him.ł

 

ęYes, but Iłd also hate being
homeless and hunted.ł She gave him a serious look. ęAnd Iłd slow you down. Iłll
be more able to help you if I stay here.ł

 

He stared at her and opened his
mouth to speak, but the sound of footsteps in the main corridor outside the
room reached them. ęHurry!ł she hissed. ęGet inside and lock the door behind
you.ł

 

As he climbed in she felt her
heart starting to pound. She closed the doors and heard the lock click. A
scuffling inside the cupboard followed. The footsteps outside the room grew
ever louder. Her heart raced. If Tagin didnłt stop making noise soon the
magicians would hear him and investigate the cupboard. A knock came from the
study door and her heart lurched.

 

The sounds inside the cupboard
finally stopped. Taking a deep breath, Indria wiped sweaty hands on the sides
of her dress and walked slowly across the room. Opening the study door, she
forced herself not to flinch at the wall of masculine, uniformed power that
stood before her.

 

ęWelcome, my lords,ł she said,
with as much dignity as she could muster. ęIf you are after my husband Iłm
afraid he is absent. Is there anything I can help you with?ł

 

The magicians stepped into the
room. The first was tall and quite handsome nothing like the way Tagin had described
the magicians hełd encountered The second was as grey and stooped with age as
her brother had described. The third was of an age somewhere between his
companions and wore an expression of disapproval and disappointment.

 

ęI am Lord Arfon,ł the tall
magician said. ęThis is Lord Towin and Magician Beller. Is your brother,
Apprentice Tagin, here?ł

 

ęHe was, but he has left.ł

 

Arfon frowned down at her. ęDo
you know where he is now?ł

 

ęNo. What is this about?ł

 

ęHe has committed a terrible
crime. He has murdered Magician Herrol.ł

 

She feigned shock and surprise. ęMurdered?ł

 

ęYes. You brother told you
nothing of this, I gather.ł

 

ęNo.ł She looked away. ęHe said
something about being in trouble. He didnłt explain.ł That is close enough
to the truth. She turned to regard him closely. ęAre you sure Tagin is the
murderer?ł

 

ęYes,ł he replied returning her
gaze steadily. ęI read the mind of a servant who witnessed the crime and
other, earlier, crimes. Did you know your brother had learned higher magic in
secret, against the kingłs law?ł

 

Indria shook her head, not having
to fake her shock this time.

 

ęHełs been taking magical
strength from the servants for months, no doubt in preparation for dispatching
his master,ł the scowling magician said with unconcealed disgust.

 

ęBut ...ł Indria finally managed.
ęTagin wouldnłt do that. Well, I can imagine him learning something forbidden
out of boredom. But hełs not the murdering type.ł

 

Lord Arfonłs eyebrows rose. ęAre
you saying youłve known enough murdering types to be able to tell them from
non-murdering types?ł

 

ęDonłt mock me.ł She raised her
chin and met his gaze. ęHełs my brother. I know him better than anyone.ł

 

He pursed his lips thoughtfully,
then nodded. ęForgive me. That was tactless, and this is a serious matter. Can
you guess where your bother may have gone? A simple read of your brotherłs mind
would confirm or disprove his guilt.ł

 

ęNo,ł she said, honestly.

 

He nodded. ęThen Iłm afraid wełre
going to have to take you with us.ł

 

* * * *

 

Record
of the 235th Year.

 

News arrived today of the death
of Magician Herrol, family Agyll, House Parin and of a terrible crime. A
mind-read of the servant who reported the death revealed that Magician Herrol
had been murdered, the strength drained from him with the use of higher magic,
by his very own apprentice, Tagin. How this apprentice came upon the knowledge
is unknown, but it appears he
was able to overcome his master by first strengthening himself by draining
servants, who were kept silent through threats. His crimes are threefold: first
in learning higher magic before being granted independence by his master,
second in applying it to commoners to strengthen himself, and third in using it
to kill.

 

Lord Arfon has been given the
task of finding Tagin. He has taken Taginłs sister, Indria, into custody as the
siblings are close and the apprentice may emerge from hiding in an attempt to
free her. He has informed me that she is cooperating with efforts to detain her
brother.

 

Gilken, family Balen, House
Sorrel, Record-keeper of the Magiciansł Guild.

 

* * * *

 

Gilken
wiped the nib of his pen and set it down next to the old leather book. Moving
over to the tower window, he looked out over Imardin, capital city of Kyralia.
The high wall of the Royal Palace rose to the left, facing down the mansions of
the rich and powerful Houses. He could not see the Kingłs Parade leading down
from the Palace to Market Square and the docks, but his memory supplied images
of it willingly, along with the remembered smells and sounds of the busiest
parts of the city.

 

If he listened, he could hear a
constant hum, but a wide stretch of gardens separated him from the bustling
metropolis, keeping the noise and hustle at a distance. Two hundred years ago,
after the magicians of Kyralia had defeated invading forces from Sachaka, King
Errik had granted them a generous area of land and ordered a Guildhall to be
built to house their newly-formed Magiciansł Guild. The Record-keeperłs Room,
Gilkenłs domain and responsibility for the past twenty-three years, was in the
highest room of the southwest tower.

 

While he had never grown tired of
the view, he was liking the long climb up to it a lot less as the years passed.
He had never gained the mental control necessary to levitate himself around and
around and up the staircase, and the only way he could have gone straight up
on the outside of the building, then somehow crawling in through a window
would hardly be a dignified way for a magician to behave.

 

There are worse things for a
magician to be guilty of than being undignified, he thought, and his mind turned
back to the ill news he had recorded that day. Murder. Blackmail. The
unauthorised learning and use of higher magic. Surely no apprentice
would abandon his training and future by committing such crimes without good
reason? What could have driven him to do it?

 

Gilken knew little about the
apprentice. Only that Tagin had a sister and that his family was of a weaker,
less favoured House. It was unusual for the only son and heir of a family to be
given magical training, since magicians were forbidden, by law, to act as head
of a family in political matters. The law was meant to stop power in Kyralia
shifting entirely into magiciansł and the Guildłs hands, though it was by
no means entirely successful. By allowing Tagin to become a magician, his
father had put future control of the family and its assets into the hands of
his daughterłs husband.

 

Lord Herrol must have known this
when he took on the young man as his apprentice. Gilken considered what he knew
of the magician. Herrolłs wife had died ten years ago, and his five children
were grown and married. He had been a good-humoured, intelligent man.

 

Having grown up in the country,
Herrol had returned there a few years ago. His home was a dayłs ride from the
city. And a few hoursł ride from Taginłs sisterłs home. Herrol, knowing how
close the siblings were, may have taken that into account when he made his
decision to move.

 

If he had, then Tagin chose a
terrible way to repay that favour.

 

Gilken looked out over the Guild grounds
to the city again. Herrol had been well liked in the Guild. Many were upset at
his death, especially his ex-apprentices. Magicians had been alerted across the
country. The docks and borders were being watched day and night.

 

Wherever Tagin is, hełll not
evade the Guild and justice for long.

 

* * * *

 

Lord
Arfon lifted a glass jug and poured clear liquid into a matching goblet. He
handed the goblet to Indria. She sniffed at the contents, then sipped.

 

ęWater?ł she said, surprised and
a little disappointed. Shełd expected an exotic and expensive liquor that only
royalty or the Guild could afford.

 

ęTherełs a spring in the Guild
grounds,ł he told her. ęThe water from it is the purest youłll ever drink. It
is piped only to this building and to the Royal Palace and in the Palace it
goes first to the kingłs rooms.ł

 

Taking a larger sip, she swirled
the water around in her mouth, then swallowed. It had almost no taste to it.
Perhaps a faint suggestion of stone and rock. Arfon poured himself a glass.

 

ęTell me more about your brother.ł

 

She shrugged. ęWhat havenłt I
told you already?ł

 

He gave her a level look. ęThe
servants at your family home say he was prone to violent tantrums, and that he
often struck you.ł

 

She looked away. ęNot often,ł she
corrected, figuring there was no point denying the truth when it could be
confirmed by a mind-read. ęJust ... when he was frustrated. Hełs smart, you
see. Too smart. People donłt understand him, and hełs not good at explaining
himself in a way ordinary people understand.ł

 

ęDid you understand him?ł

 

ęNot always. Thatłs why he loses
his temper with me.ł She waved a hand. ęBut I see his frustration and his ...ł
His loneliness, she was going to say. But Tagin would not have liked her to
speak of him as if he was weak or pitiful.

 

ęYou want to protect him?ł Arfon
observed.

 

ęOf course. Iłm his sister.ł

 

ęWould you still want to, if you
knew hełd murdered Lord Herrol? Would you still hide his location, if you knew
it?ł

 

She looked at him and smiled
crookedly. ęProbably.ł

 

ęWhy?ł

 

She sighed and turned away. ęHełs
the only one who ever cared about me. Mother and Father never did. And Demrel
certainly doesnłt.ł

 

Arfon said nothing. The silence
stretched between them and eventually drew her eyes back to him. He was looking
at her intently. His expression was not disapproving. It was unfathomable, and
yet it sent a shiver up her spine.

 

Stop it, she told herself. Itłs not
right to fancy the man who wants to catch and possibly execute your own
brother. Then, belatedly, she added to that and youłre a married woman.

 

She could not help liking Arfon,
though. Hełd treated her so differently to her husband as if he not only saw
that she had a mind but was interested in its contents. He had been gentle and
apologetic the few times hełd had to physically force her to co-operate. The
only time shełd seen him angry it had fascinated her to see how hełd held the
anger back, and how quickly it had faded away.

 

And it doesnłt help that hełs so
good looking.
She sighed. I guess thatłs part of the Guildłs ploy to get information out
of me. I might give more away if I wanted to impress that person. Fortunately I
donłt have any information to give.

 

Arfon drew in a deep breath and
stood up. ęItłs late. Iłll take you back to your room.ł

 

My ęroomł? she thought as she followed him
up the stairs. My ęprisonł is more accurate. Though the little bedroom
the Guild had set up for her in one of the Guildhall towers was comfortable,
she had not left it or the room below it for two weeks.

 

Arfon left her as soon as she was
safely locked away. It did not take her long to change into her nightclothes,
and she fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. The next thing she
was aware of was the patterns of light and shadow the moon had cast on the
ceiling.

 

Then she frowned. Iłm awake
and itłs still night. Why am I awake?

 

Something interrupted the
pattern. She raised her head and stared at the window. A shadowed face was
pressed up to the glass.

 

Thatłs impossible. This room is
three floors up and there are guards outside. She let her head drop back onto the pillow. I
must be dreaming.

 

ęIndria!ł a muffled voice hissed.
ęGet up! Itłs me. Tagin.ł

 

Her heart skipped. She wasnłt
dreaming. Someone really was there, and that someone was Tagin. The fool!
Theyłll catch him for sure! She scrambled out of the bed and stumbled to
the window. Cold air surrounded her. The paper screens had been pushed aside
and the frame of mullioned glass hinged outward. Tagin was outside. Below his
feet was something flat, hovering in the chill air. It looked suspiciously like
a piece of the paving from the Guild gardens.

 

ęHow are you ... ?ł she asked.

 

ęSame way I move a pot of sumi,ł
he said. ęOnly this time Iłm standing on it. Took some practice to keep my
balance, though. Donłt worry. Iłm used to it now. I wonłt drop you.ł

 

ęDrop me?ł

 

He grinned. ęIłve come to rescue
you. Canłt have my sister in prison because of something she didnłt do.ł

 

ęI donłt need rescuing,ł she told
him. ęWhen they realise youłre not coming to get me theyłll give up and let me
go.ł

 

ęBut I have come to get
you.ł

 

ęAnd take me where?ł

 

ęAway from here.ł

 

She shook her head. ęTheyłll find
us, Tagin. Listen, I believe they wonłt harm you if you give yourself up. Theyłll
give you a chance to prove that youłre innocent. Once they read your mind theyłll
know you didnłt kill anyone, and theyłll let you go.ł

 

He smiled crookedly. ęBut I
did kill Herrol. And most of his servants. And ...ł he looked down and
shrugged.

 

She followed his gaze, past the
floating stone beneath his feet, and caught her breath. Three men lay on the
ground below, their eyes open and staring. Dead. Had Tagin killed them? Of
course he had. To save me. She felt guilt welling up, but pushed it away.
The Guild had set a trap for him. If it had gone badly then it was hardly her
fault.

 

But it did mean her brother had
killed. And once again admitted to killing his master.

 

ęOh, Tagin,ł she heard herself
say. ęTheyłll definitely execute you now. And me, if I come with you.ł

 

ęThey wonłt find us,ł he told
her, extending a hand.

 

ęBut ...ł But I donłt want to
leave and become a fugitive, she wanted to say. His eyes narrowed. She
could see the first signs of suspicion and anger. His anger was always worst
when he thought hełd been betrayed. Only this time hełs killed people. But
he wonłt kill me.

 

Still, he might take his anger
out on others. Hełll blame the Guild and my husband for turning me against him. She felt her heart sink. If I
go with him, I might be able to persuade him otherwise. Steer him away from
further trouble. From murdering people.

 

It would mean leaving her life of
comfort and safety.

 

But hełs my brother. Iłm the only
one who can save him.

 

Sighing, knowing that he did not
comprehend what he asked her to sacrifice, she climbed up onto the window sill
and took his hand. His face was transformed by a grin. Pulling her forward, he
steadied her as she stepped onto the slab. She looked down as they began to
descend.

 

Lord Arfon was going to be so
disappointed in her.

 

* * * *

 

Record
of the 235th Year.

 

The rogue apprentice has rescued
his sister, killing two guards and Lord Towin in the process. Lord Towinłs
death is a shock and loss to both his family and the Guild. He had so much
potential, and his innovative study of the application of magic in shaping
metals will be left unfinished.

 

Towinłs death has roused and
united the Guild. Apprentice Tagin has shown himself to have little moral
character, willing to use higher magic as cruelly as the Sachakans did before
the War. We cannot leave him to roam the world unchecked and unpunished. Lord
Arfon believes that we must capture him and find out how he learned higher
magic without the assistance of a teacher, but many of the others feel Tagin is
too dangerous and must be killed at the soonest oppor

 

* * * *

 

Gilken
let his pen hover over the page for a moment, listening to the expectant
silence that came after the knock at his door. Then he finished the sentence,
wiped the pen and set it aside. Rising from his chair, he sent a little magic
out to the door to nudge the latch open and then tug the door inward.

 

Lord Arfon nodded politely at
him. ęRecord-keeper Gilken, may I speak with you?ł

 

ęOf course, Lord Arfon,ł Gilken
replied, waving to the comfortable chairs he kept in the room for visitors. ęWould
you like a drink of water?ł

 

ęNo, thank you.ł Arfon sat down,
his gaze distracted and a crease deepening between his brows. ęI thought you
should know that Lord Valin, Magician Loral and Lord Greyer havenłt been seen
since last nightłs meeting. You know they volunteered to search for Tagin, but
I didnłt choose them?ł

 

ęYes.ł Gilken nodded to show he
understood Arfonłs alarm. The young magicians had been friends of Lord Towin,
the magician who had been guarding Indria, and were so outraged at the murder
it was clear to all that if theyłd found Tagin it was unlikely therełd be an
apprentice alive to question and put to trial.

 

Would that be so terrible? he asked himself. He considered
how conflicted his feelings had been the previous night, at the meeting. While
he felt the same sense of loss and anger at the murders as many of the
magicians, he had been disturbed by the fierce, unquestioning drive for revenge
raging among the magicians. We are supposed to be examples of calm and
reason. And justice. Tagin deserves a trial.

 

ęYou fear they will kill Tagin,ł
Gilken said.

 

Arfon looked at him. ęOr in
attempting their own search they will upset our arrangements for capturing him.ł

 

Gilken nodded again. He wants
me to put something in the record, so that if the trio upset his plans and Tagin
gets away, Argon and his helpers wonłt be blamed. It is a pity that he feels
the Guild might react that way, but he is no fool. If things go very wrong,
people always look for someone to blame, and leaders always fall first.

 

ęI should make note of their
absence,ł Gilken said, rising from this chair.

 

Taking the hint, Arfon stood up. ęThank
you. I will distract you no longer.ł

 

Gilken smiled. ęReceiving
information for the record is more necessity than distraction. And you are
always welcome, Lord Arfon.ł

 

The young magician bent at the
waist in a half bow, then left the room. Gilken sat down at his desk again and
considered the last sentence he had written. Then he picked up his pen and
resumed writing.

 

* * * *

 

Though
she wanted to look away, to flee from the scene before her, Indria forced
herself to look at the five bodies. Three magicians and two apprentices lay
sprawled around the campfire three men and two boys a few years older than
Tagin. They looked as if they had fallen into a drunken sleep, but she knew
better. Each bled from a small cut, through which her brother had taken their
magic and their lives while they had been drugged. She wrapped her arms around
the simple commonerłs tunic Tagin had brought for her as part of her rescue and
disguise, and shivered.

 

It had been her idea to let the
magicians catch her, convince them she had been Taginłs prisoner, then drug
them so she and Tagin could gain some distance or even get them off their
trail. She had bought the tincture at a market, pretending to be suffering from
insomnia and womenłs pains but wanting something that didnłt taste foul. As the
herbalist had recommended, Indria had mixed it into the magiciansł wine, taking
care not to make it too strong and risk poisoning them.

 

But Tagin had decided it was too
great an opportunity to pass up. Hełd taken their power, and in doing so hełd
killed them. And now he was dancing around the fire, crowing with triumph.

 

ęToo easy!ł he exclaimed. ęAnd
all it took was this.ł He slipped a hand into the pocket of his jacket
and brought out the little bottle containing the drug. ęNot a bit of magic
wasted none of mine, none of theirs, and now itłs all mine!ł

 

He grabbed her hands and whirled
her about. Her foot caught on a fallen branch and she stumbled, so he stopped
and steadied her. ęDid you hear me?ł he asked. ęDo you understand?ł

 

She nodded. ęNot a bit wasted,ł
she repeated. ęAnd now theyłre off our trail. Wełve gained ... how many days?
How long do you think itłll take before theyłre found or missed?ł

 

ęA few days.ł He shrugged. ęMore
if I burn their bodies.ł

 

ęLong enough for us to make it to
the border, if we take their horses. Wełll have to hope the Elynes arenłt
waiting for us.ł She looked at the dead magicians again and forced herself to
see the situation with cold practicality. ęAre they carrying any money? We
could buy passage on a ship. Head for Vin. Or Lonmar.ł

 

Tagin shook his head. A familiar
mad gleam came into his eyes. ęWełre not going to Vin, sister. Or Lonmar. Or
Elyne. Wełre going to Imardin.ł

 

ęThe city? But ...ł

 

His grip on her hands tightened. ęThink
of all the times we pretended wełd rule the world one day ...ł He laughed as
she opened her mouth to protest. ęYes, I know it was a game, but I think ... I
think itłs possible. We could change the world. We could make the Guild
see that their rules and restrictions are wrong.ł He looked at her and his
expression became serious. ęIt would be a way to make up for what I did. Which
is all their fault, really.ł

 

ęBut ...ł

 

His face darkened suddenly, and
he flung her hands away. ęYou donłt know what it was like, Indria. Every night,
Herrol taking all my strength so I could barely do anything hełd taught me.ł
Tagin flushed and turned from her, his head dropping so she could not see his
face.

 

ęThatłs the secret, you know,ł he
said in a quieter voice. ęThe secret of higher magic. Masters take the strength
from the apprentices, supposedly in exchange for their teaching. It seems fair
at first. Strength in exchange for knowledge. But Herrol kept holding me back.
When I started teaching myself things in his own books he was angry. He
started taking extra power so I couldnłt try anything. I couldnłt learn
anything.ł Tagin looked up at her, his gaze tortured and his face older than it
had ever appeared before. ęIt doesnłt have to take ten years for an apprentice
to become a higher magician. They hold us back stop us from learning at our
natural pace so that they can take magic from us for longer.ł

 

Indria felt her heart twist. That
might not be so bad for any ordinary apprentice, but for Tagin it would have
been intolerable. He was clever. He learned quickly, and grew bored even
faster. Herrol should have realised that. Should have rewarded Tagin for his
initiative, not punished him.

 

ęBut Iłm going to reveal the lie,ł
Tagin continued, straightening as determination filled him. ęIłm going to make
the Guild tell everyone the truth.ł His gaze shifted to the distance and he was
silent a moment. Then his eyes snapped to her and he smiled. ęWełre going to
change the world, Indria, and this time itłs not a game. Itłs real.ł

 

* * * *

 

Record
of the 235th Year.

 

We now know that the three burned
corpses found yesterday are the remains of Lord Valin, Magician Loral and Lord
Greyer. They were identified by the charred scraps of their clothing brought
back to the city.

 

Today our minds have been buzzing
with mental communications as magicians here and there have reported more
terrible news. Nine of Arfonłs searchers and two apprentices had stopped at a
Stayhouse for the evening. By the morning they, their servants, the Stayhouse
owner and his wife, and many of the staff and customers at the Stayhouse, had
perished. Most died in the fire that burned the building to the ground, but we
suspect the magicians were first killed by Tagin and his sister as the pair
were identified by those lucky enough to escape the blaze.

 

All here are shocked by this
tragic loss of life.

 

* * * *

 

Gilken
paused. His mind crowded with questions, but he always tried (and often failed)
to keep speculation to a minimum in his reporting. Records should be strictly
factual. Had the searchers come upon Tagin and his sister, and if so, was their
attempt to capture them a catastrophic failure? Why did none of them report the
encounter to the Guild via mental communication before they died? He could not
help but think the location of the two groups of perished magicians was
significant. The bodies of the three young magicians were found further from
the city than the Stayhouse. Instead of fleeing after the first encounter,
Tagin and Indria had turned and headed toward the city.

 

Almost as though Tagin is hunting
magicians, not the other way around.

 

But he couldnłt write that in the
record. With a shudder, he wiped his pen, set it down and went to bed hoping
for a night uninterrupted by mental calls reporting ill news, or nightmares.

 

* * * *

 

When
Indria had turned herself in to the first three magicians, theyłd decided not
to tell the Guild in case Tagin heard their mental conversation and their
intention to sneak up on him. It had surprised her to learn that any mental
communication could be overheard by all other magicians. Shełd wondered why
they bothered to use it at all.

 

The second group had no reason to
contact other magicians they had fallen asleep from the drug Tagin had forced
the innkeeper to add to their drinks, and never knew theyłd just eaten their
last meal.

 

However, the third lot of
magicians to fall foul of Taginłs grand plan did not die silently.

 

To Indriałs relief, Tagin hadnłt
told her to approach and drug the four magicians theyłd seen at the village.
Instead theyłd watched the men buy food and a bottle of wine, then followed
them at a distance. The four did not have any apprentices with them, shełd
noted. As dusk greyed the landscape, the magicians had stopped to eat their
meal, though they remained on their horses. Tagin and Indria had tied their own
horses to a fence post out of sight, then crept closer, hidden by a stone wall.

 

Bringing out the bottle of
poison, Tagin had somehow taken a large drop of it out of the bottle with
magic. The drop floated up in the air to hover above the magicians. Indria had
watched, heart racing and wondering how they could not have noticed it.

 

Then one of the magicians had
brought out wine to share around. The droplet had shot downward and into the
wine bottle so fast that none of them had seen it. The magicians had begun
taking it in turns to drink straight from the bottle.

 

It had seemed a needless risk to
keep peering over the wall at the men, so Tagin and Indria had slipped away to
reclaim their mounts. That had been their mistake, Indria realised. The
magicians had ridden on for several minutes before the drug began to take
effect. As they began to fall from their saddles, Tagin confidently rode up to
them, grinning widely. But one magician did not fall. One magician hadnłt drunk
from the bottle, or else had drunk too little, and that magician had attacked
Tagin. The strike had knocked Tagin from his horse, and the animal had raced
off down the road. ęGet out of range!ł Tagin had shouted to Indria, so shełd
raced off to shelter behind a copse of trees.

 

It was hard to tell what was
happening, watching the battle from a distance. Night was advancing, and she
caught flashes of light and booming noises, but only glimpses of her brother
and the magician. Her heart pounded, and she felt sick.

 

Donłt kill him, she pleaded silently at the
magician.

 

Suddenly all went black. For a
long moment there was only darkness and silence, then a figure appeared, lit by
his own magic. It waved at her, beckoning. She felt a rush of relief as she
recognised it. Guilt followed as she realised the magician must be dead. Then
something else stirred. Something darker.

 

Dread.

 

Tagin was alive and well, but so
were his plans. Until she could talk him out of them, more people would die.
Sighing, she urged her horse out of the copse toward the site of the battle.
The dust was settling now. Tagin was crouching beside one of the unconscious
men. Perhaps she could talk him into letting them live.

 

But before she had moved far from
the trees a flame suddenly shot up from the ground, twice as high as the trees,
and she felt heat on her skin. Her horse started and she clung to its back,
heart pounding. What was that? Tagin shouted though it sounded
more like a curse than surprise or pain. Another flash of light burned the
night. She felt her horse tense, ready to leap into a run, and quickly hauled
on the reins. It danced in a circle, slowly settling at she talked to it
soothingly. She looked toward Tagin to see him standing near where the flames
had come from. He turned away and started toward her.

 

When he reached her, he frowned
up at her.

 

ęAre you sure thatłs the same
poison you bought last time?ł

 

She nodded, then shrugged. ęIt
smells the same.ł

 

Tagin scowled. ęTwo of them died
from it before I got a chance to take their power. Thatłs what the light was
the last of their magic released from their bodies when they died. Good thing I
was shielding.ł

 

A shock went through Indria,
despite knowing that he would have killed them anyway. She thought of the size
of the drop of poison Tagin had put into the wine. Much bigger than the single
drop per person shełd used before. Had he used too much?

 

ęMaybe itłs stronger,ł she
suggested. ęMaybe the ones we drugged before this would have died too, if youłd
been delayed this long.ł The herbalist was very insistent that I not use too
much.

 

He nodded. ęIłve used too much
power in the fight.ł He looked up at her, his expression thoughtful. ęIłm a
strong magician, so as my sister itłs possible you have strong powers, too.ł

 

She frowned. ęBut Iłm not a
magician.ł

 

He smiled. ęNo, but you have the
potential. You canłt use any of your magic, but I can.ł He beckoned. ęGet down.ł

 

Reluctantly, she dismounted. He
took her hands and looked into her eyes earnestly. ęI know I said that having
power taken from you is awful, but it isnłt if itłs done gently. If you arenłt
drained dry you hardly know the difference. Will you let me take your strength?ł

 

She stared back at him. He wanted
her to endure the same thing that hełd killed Lord Herrol for.

 

ęWe need to do this,ł he told
her. ęOr the next time we meet any magicians theyłll kill us.ł

 

After what hełs done, of course
they will. But
his expression was so direct and anxious. Not a hint of crazed ambition, or
deception. He looked far more sane than shełd seen him in weeks.

 

She nodded. He smiled briefly in
thanks, then became serious again. From somewhere in his clothing he produced a
knife. The blade touched each of her palms. She felt a pressure, then a slowly
growing sting. Covering her hands with his, he closed his eyes.

 

First she went a bit wobbly as a
feeling of weakness spread through her, but somehow she stayed on her feet.
Then she felt languid and passive. After a time the feeling eased, and she felt
normal but for a tingle in her palms. Tagin grinned and let her hands go. The
cuts hełd made were gone, healed away with magic. He reached out to touch her
cheek, his eyes warm with affection.

 

ęThank you. How do you feel?ł he
asked.

 

She considered. ęFine. It was a
bit draining, at first.ł

 

He nodded. ęTook me a while to
judge the speed of it. Iłm not used to having to do it slowly.ł

 

ęHow do you feel?ł she
asked.

 

He frowned and looked at the
ground, then he shook his head. ęYoułre strong, but youłre only one person. I
need more magic.ł He turned around, stopping as he faced the road to the
village theyłd just left. Tiny lights glinted in the distance.

 

ęStay here, hidden behind the
wall,ł he said, taking the reins of her horse. ęIłll be back in an hour or so.ł

 

* * * *

 

Record
of the 235th Year.

 

Our worst fears have come to
pass. Apprentice Tagin, now being called ęThe Mad Apprenticeł has turned on the
common man and woman
in his pursuit of power. Lord Telkan, on his way to the city after a visit
to Elyne, found the entire village of Whiteriver dead and left to rot. All
victims had been killed with higher magic. Even the localsł enka, gorin and
reber had perished. Only small children were spared.

 

After informing the Guild of the
tragedy, Lord Telkan continued on his way only to encounter signs of a magical
battle, and the bodies of Lord Purwe and Lord Horet. The two deceased were not
even on Taginłs trail, instead, misfortune brought them in contact with their
killer. Fortunately Lord Telkan was not so unlucky, and has this evening
reached the Guild safely.

 

* * * *

 

Looking
down at his entry, Gilken shook his head in disbelief.

 

ęNearly a quarter of Kyralian
magicians have died at Taginłs hands. Iłm beginning to find my opinion swaying
toward those who believe he should be killed as soon as possible, rather than
risk further lives in the attempt to catch him.ł

 

Lord Arfon sighed. ęYou are not
the only one, if whispers in the Guildhall corridors are any indication.ł

 

ęBut you still feel strongly that
we must find out how he came to learn higher magic without assistance?ł

 

ęYes. And it is less likely
Indria will be harmed if we capture him.ł

 

Gilken looked at Arfon closely.
The man had spent several nights talking to Indria while she had been held at
the Guildhall. Had he grown fond of her? While the general opinion of the
magicians was that Taginłs sister was guilty of helping a murderer, Arfon had
pointed out many times that she may not have any choice. But when her husband,
who had been found in Lonmar visiting his trading partners, was told of her
involvement in her brotherłs crimes he had all but disowned her, and many in
the Guild had taken that as proof of her bad character.

 

ęWhat will you do now?ł Gilken
asked.

 

Arfon frowned as he considered. ęHełs
so unpredictable. First he runs, now he attacks. Iłve instructed the searchers
to report his position if they see him, but to avoid approaching or confronting
him. Once we know where he is, we can gather together and decide how best to
corner him.ł

 

ęYou donłt have any idea how
strong he is, do you?ł

 

ęNo.ł Arfonłs expression was
grim. ęOnly that, now he has taken to attacking commoners, he will grow rapidly
stronger. The longer it takes for us to find and subdue him, the stronger he
will get.ł

 

ęDo you need my help?ł

 

The younger magician looked at
Gilken in surprise and gratitude, and shook his head. ęThe Guild needs a record
of these events,ł he said. ęHopefully only as a warning to those who come after
us. But thank you for offering.ł

 

Gilken smiled and shrugged,
feeling a mixture of relief and frustration. If only there was something he
could do to help. But he was old, and perhaps the best he could do was the task
already in his hands.

 

* * * *

 

Exhausted,
Indria sat down on a low wall and stared at the ground. She did not want to see
the bodies of the villagers around her. Despair and guilt would only drain the
last of her energy though deliberately avoiding the sight brought a wave of
shame anyway.

 

Every night Tagin took magical
energy from her. He said it not only kept them strong and safe, but it would
help her sleep. He was right: she all but fell unconscious and only woke when
he shook her the next day. She would have been grateful for the lack of dreams,
if her waking hours had not become so nightmarish.

 

He insisted she come with him
each time he attacked a village, afraid that the magicians would find her and
use her against him. When she had seen what he did to the people she had
protested, too tired to care what he might do to her. But she had been too worn
out to argue convincingly, and he had obviously been expecting and preparing
for her reaction. He wore her down with his reasoning.

 

Or maybe it was the sheer madness
of his reasoning that left her unable to speak or resist. He has gone so far
past the point of ordinary human boundaries, so beyond my reach, that there is
no use in me arguing with him.

 

Still, she clung to hope. Perhaps
he would return from his delusion. If he did, she must be there to steer him
back to sanity. The right word at the right time, and she might persuade him to
flee Kyralia and hide somewhere remote and safe from the Guild.

 

Either that, or turn him in. But
even now, that was unthinkable.

 

A movement caught her eye and she
reluctantly looked up. A figure was approaching her. Tagin.

 

ęWełll have magical company soon,ł
he told her.

 

She frowned. ęWhat do you mean?ł

 

ęI saw it in the mind of the
village leader. The local Lord told him to send a messenger if we turned up.
Once he knows wełre here, hełll call on five other country magicians for help.
Theyłll come after us.ł

 

ęOh.ł She stood up with an
effort.

 

ęRest, sister,ł Tagin said, his
voice growing gentle for a moment. ęWełre not going anywhere.ł

 

ęWe arenłt running away?ł

 

ęNo.ł

 

ęAre we going to poison them?ł

 

ęNo. No more poison. No more
tricks. It is time for good, honest battle.ł

 

She felt her heart start to beat
faster, and suddenly felt a little more awake. It was not a pleasant sensation.
ęHow many magicians did the man say there were?ł

 

ęSix.ł

 

ęBut... youłre ... one.ł

 

ęYes, but they are weaker.ł

 

ęHow do you know? Donłt they take
power from their apprentices?ł

 

ęYes. One apprentice, once a day.
I have taken magic from many hundreds, and you would not believe how many
commoners have as much latent power as a trained magician. I can see why the
Sachakans have slaves ...ł His voice faded, then he shook his head. ęGuild
magicians arenłt allowed to take magic from anyone but their apprentices. Not
unless therełs a war.ł

 

ęDo ... do you know anything
about fighting?ł

 

He smiled. ęA lot more than they
do. Itłs been over two hundred years since the Sachakan War. Kyralian magicians
have forgotten how to fight. Therełs been no reason to, since the wasteland
ruined Sachaka.ł He frowned. ęHerrol had a big library, most of it inherited,
and I donłt think hełd read all of it. I found books on strategy. Books all
about fighting and planning battles. Iłve practised as much as I could, trying
different kinds of barriers and strikes. It wasnłt as good as real fighting
practice, but it was more than what the Guild teaches.ł

 

ęBut ... if you attack them ...
does that make it war?ł

 

He looked at her and smiled. ęTheyłre
already in a war, they just donłt know it yet. And by the time they realise it,
it will be too late.ł

 

* * * *

 

Record
of the 235th Year.

 

It is difficult to believe that
any man could be capable of such acts of needless violence. Yesterdayłs attempt
to subdue him appears to have sent him into a passion. The last reports say he
has slaughtered all in the villages of Tenker and Forei. He is beyond all
controlling and I fear for the future of us all. I am amazed that he has not
turned on us yet but perhaps this is his preparation for that final strike.

 

Gilken, family Balen, House Sorrel, Record-keeper of the
Magiciansł Guild.

 

* * * *

 

I
definitely should not include my suspicions in my entries, Gilken thought as he finished
re-reading his previous entry. Whenever I do, they prove to be correct in
the most unpleasant way.

 

He sighed and dipped his pen into
the bottle of ink.

 

* * * *

 

It
is looking more and more likely that the confrontation between Tagin and the
country magicians was a deliberate move. Most here now believe he was ridding himself of
the threat of attack from the rear in preparation for his advance toward the
city.

 

Today, reports have been arriving
every hour of villages and towns emptied of life, the luckier citizens having
fled on Taginłs arrival, and of country magicians found dead in their homes or
searchers perishing on the road.

 

The only benefit to this is that
Tagin is no longer hiding. Today Lord Arfon left with twenty-three magicians
with orders to kill, not capture, the Mad Apprentice and his sister, Indria.

 

* * * *

 

A
sound in the stairwell leading to his room made his heart skip. Had Lord Arfon
returned? Had he been successful?

 

The steps were slow and dragged
with weariness. Gilken wiped his pen, set it down, and hurried to the door. As
he opened it, the man climbing the stairs looked up. Arfonłs expression was
grim, but it softened as he saw Gilken. By the time he had entered the room and
collapsed into a chair his face was drawn and strained.

 

ęItłs not good news, is it?ł
Gilken said, taking the other chair.

 

ęNo.ł Arfon covered his face with
his hands, drew in a deep breath and shook his head. He looked up at Gilken. ęHe
defeated us. I only survived because ... Indria suggested Tagin let me return
to the Guild to deliver the news and suggest we surrender.ł

 

Gilken felt his heart sink down
low in his chest. ęHow is that possible? How could we have got to this point in
a few short months. How can we fall to one crazed apprentice?ł

 

ęBecause we have underestimated
him,ł Arfon replied. ęHe is no apprentice; he knows higher magic, therefore we
should have treated him as a higher magician. And because we are fools, too
slow and arrogant to consider we could ever be challenged, too split by
politics to cooperate when we were, and too proud to foresee that one of our
own might turn on us one day.ł

 

ęYou could not have predicted any
of this,ł Gilken protested. ęHow could anyone have guessed that Tagin would
dare to attack us?ł

 

ęWe should have considered it.ł
Arfon shook his head. ęI should have considered it. But there is no point
arguing about it now. We can argue all we want, but it wonłt undo our mistakes.ł

 

Gilken regarded the young
magician with dismay. Hełd never seen Arfon so resigned and hopeless.

 

ęWhat will your next move be?ł

 

Arfon shook his head. ęThe hunt
has been taken out of my hands.ł

 

Gilkenłs stared at Arfon in
disbelief. There was little wonder Arfon looked so defeated. ęBut surely Tagin
has been weakened by the fight. He is just one magician. Another attack will
surely ł

 

ęIf anyone wants to gather a
force to confront Tagin now it has to be at their own arranging,ł Arfon told
him. ęBut the Guild may not approve it. When I left the meeting room talk had
turned to bargaining and negotiation.ł

 

ęDo you think Tagin will be
willing to negotiate?ł he found himself asking, not quite ready to abandon the
future hełd always assumed would come to pass.

 

Arfon shrugged. ęIłve given up
guessing what he will do. Maybe there will be no Guild left to negotiate with.
I suspect those of a less optimistic outlook will have gathered their most
valued possessions and found somewhere else to be by tomorrow morning.ł

 

ęCanłt we ... canłt we call upon
the people of Imardin to give us their strength?ł

 

ęThat was also discussed, but I
have to agree with the prevailing opinion: the people are unlikely to agree to
it. This has happened too fast for them to comprehend the danger. There is no
army at the gates no foreign enemy. There is one man. One of our own members,
who we are responsible for dealing with. They donłt understand how one
apprentice could be such a threat. Even if we tried to explain ... they donłt
trust magicians like they used to, and this king is hardly the type to stir
love from his people.ł

 

Gilken looked away. So they
werenłt even going to try to persuade the people to help? Or confront
Tagin one more time, while he was weak? He pushed himself to his feet.

 

ęIłm going down to this meeting.
There are other options they may not have considered.ł

 

Arfon looked up at him in
surprise, then nodded.

 

ęIłll come with you,ł he said.

 

Gilken smiled in gratitude, then
led the way out of the Record-keeperłs room to talk some sense into what was
left of the Guild.

 

* * * *

 

Indria
had lost all sense of feeling, apart from a numbness that frightened her. It
had been hard to justify the deaths of the magicians that had pursued Tagin,
but shełd managed it. Watching her brother strip the life from one person after
another, sparing only the youngest of the children, she had found she could not
reason it away, so she stopped reasoning at all.

 

He is a monster. My brother. A
monster, the
shreds of her conscience told her.

 

But if he is, then the Guild made
him so.

 

They may have used their
apprentices badly, but did they deserve this in return?

 

She ignored the question. Once
more she told herself that, once all this was over, the monster in her brother
would go and the old Tagin would return. It was madness to hold onto this hope,
but she did. Stupidly, stubbornly. There was nothing left but that hope. It was
all out of her hands. Never had been in them to start with.

 

He never listened to me before
all this started. Why did I think he would if I came with him?

 

She had been a fool to think she
could keep him out of trouble and stop him from killing more people. Nothing
she had said or did had turned him from this path.

 

But at least she had tried.

 

Not hard enough. You could have
refused to go with him. You could have neglected to slip the poison in the wine
that first time. Look at what your cowardice has brought about.

 

She looked up. The road before
her was littered with the bodies of magicians.

 

As the last of the magicians
fell, Tagin turned to grin at her. He beckoned. Obediently she followed him
into the city. The people of Imardin shrank back, watching the lone figure and
his sister. Indria thought back to the apprentices who had sought her brother
out, traitors seeking to join him and thereby save themselves.

 

ęYou would give your lives to my
cause?ł hełd asked.

 

ęYes,ł theyłd assured him. So hełd
taken what they offered, wiping their blood from his knife onto their robes.

 

As he turned into Kingłs Parade a
chill of foreboding shivered through her. He was not heading for the Guild, he
was heading for the Palace. Somehow that realisation stirred up an emotion deep
within the emptiness and she faltered. It briefly pushed away the numbness and
after a moment of confusion she realised what she felt was anger.

 

ęWhen you and I rule the world
...ł he had said
to her, playing their familiar game. This was his plan all along. All the
talk of changing the Guild has been a lie.

 

No. He was merely heading to the
Palace because he knew that was where the magicians would be. Tagin looked over
his shoulder at her. His eyes gleamed with mad eagerness, but as he looked at
her it faded and changed to concern.

 

ęAre you well, sister? Am I
walking too fast for you?ł

 

She felt her heart lift a little.
There was still good in him. She managed a smile. ęIłm fine.ł

 

As he turned back she let the
chill in her heart numb her doubts and held onto a hope that had shrivelled and
shrunk, but somehow refused to wither away entirely.

 

* * * *

 

Record
of the 235th Year.

 

My worst fears have come to life.
Today Tagin killed Lord Gerin, Lord Dirron, Lord Winnel and Lady Ella. Will it
end only when all magicians are dead, or will he not be satisfied until all
life has been drained from the world? The view from my window is ghastly.
Thousands of gorin, enka and reber rot in the fields, their strength given to
the defence of Kyralia. Too many to eat, even.

 

Thousands of people are leaving
the city while Tagin is too occupied with establishing control in the Palace to
stop them. The Guild is all but empty. Aside from a few brave magicians, we
have all fled to safer locations to wait and observe. Some are planning to
leave Kyralia. I am undecided. Should I leave the country and take this record
with me, or stay and continue in my duty to document these events? Some would
reason that the Guild is finished so there is nothing more to record. But we
are not all dead yet.

 

Gilken, family Balen, House
Sorrel, Record-keeper of the Magiciansł Guild.

 

* * * *

 

The
carriage bounced and swayed as Gilken put aside the record book. The driver had
been instructed to get them all as far away from the city as possible, as
quickly as possible so, once the vehicle had passed all the people fleeing the
city on foot or in carts, it had sped up. The combination of speed and the rougher
country roads made writing impossible.

 

His fellow passengers, two female
magicians and one male apprentice, were silent. Along with me, a grey-haired
old man, we are hardly a formidable force. He thought of the rest of the
Guild members, now scattering across the country: mostly the older or younger
magicians, a handful of women and far more apprentices than magicians, since
so many had lost their masters.

 

Though two hundred years had
passed since the Sachakan War, the Guildłs Kyralian membership hadnłt reached
the number of magicians that had existed before the war. Now, even if Tagin was
somehow defeated and all surviving magicians returned to the Guild, it would
take many more years to replace those that had been lost to the Mad Apprentice.

 

Not to forget the emptied
villages and towns. And however many Imardians Tagin killed in future to keep
himself in charge of the country. But I suppose hełll have to keep some
alive, otherwise hełll run out of people to take power from. Hełll keep the
ones with the greatest latent magic as slaves, most likely. Gilken
shuddered. Maybe it is better that I am leaving. I not sure Iłd be able to
bear recording it all.

 

* * * *

 

ęThey
have what!ł

 

The old servant flinched at Taginłs
anger.

 

ęLeft, my lord.ł

 

ęWhere did they go?ł

 

ęI donłt know. They took
carriages and headed in different directions. Some to the south, some to th ł

 

ęGood,ł Tagin declared. ęIf theyłve
split up, they wonłt be coming back to fight me any time soon.ł He moved back
to the throne and sat down. ęI want a list of all the magicians that left.ł
Tagin narrowed his eyes at the man. ęI know youłll try to hide some. For every
magician I learn youłve left off the list Iłll ... Iłll kill a member of your
family.ł

 

The man nodded. ęI understand.ł

 

Tagin looked away, his expression
thoughtful. ęI also want everyone in Kyralia to know that any magicians that
are found are to be sent to me. And their apprentices. Let it be known that no
magician is allowed to use higher magic to strengthen themselves.ł

 

ęI will summon the street
callers,ł the man murmured.

 

ęThirdly, I want all the books in
the Guild sent here.ł Tagin pointed to one of the courtiers hełd selected,
after reading their minds, to serve him. ęMy assistant will go with you to make
sure you donłt hide any.ł He waved a hand. ęGo.ł

 

The man bowed and backed away.
Tagin ignored him, reaching for his glass of water.

 

Indria watched from a chair that
had been placed beside the throne for her. As Tagin drank, a memory flashed
into her mind of a glass goblet full of clear water that had tasted faintly of
rocks. A memory of Lord Arfon.

 

ęTherełs a spring in the Guild
grounds,ł he told her. ęThe water from it is the purest youłll ever drink. It
is piped only to this building and to the Royal Palace and in the palace it
goes first to the kingłs rooms.ł
She had told Tagin about the spring, but not about its location in the Guild,
and he had decided to drink only from this safe source.

 

ęOh, thatłs right.ł Tagin looked
up at the retreating man. ęStop! I have another instruction. Send me the Guild
records. I want to know whatłs been said about me.ł

 

The servant bowed again, then
hurried out of the entrance to the audience chamber. Indria felt a pang of
sympathy and sighed.

 

ęAre you well, sister? You look
pale.ł

 

Indria looked up to find Tagin
looking at her, and shrugged. ęJust tired.ł

 

He considered her thoughtfully.
Since taking over the Palace he had insisted she stay by his side. She told
herself he was being protective, but sometimes she detected an old, familiar mood
of suspicion and distrust. Worry grew like a tangled knot inside her. She knew
that mood. It had always been a dangerous one. In the past it had led to
accusations of imagined slights against him and, when she was younger,
beatings. Now that he had grown accustomed to killing with little hesitation,
what would he do if he imagined she was betraying him?

 

Suddenly he smiled. ęGo on,
sister. This has all been exhausting for you. Rest and return when you feel
better.ł

 

Somehow she forced her weary legs
to take her to the rooms Tagin had chosen for her. The beauty of the
decorations and furnishings within the Palace only made her more melancholy. As
she reached the door to her apartment a guard held it open for her. She all but
staggered through to the greeting room, relieved when the door clicked shut
behind her. Then she froze.

 

A man stood in the centre of the
room. She blinked at him stupidly for a moment. He was not a servant. He was
familiar, but for a moment she didnłt recognise him because he wasnłt wearing
his robes.

 

ęLord Arfon?ł

 

He nodded. She glanced back at
the door. Had the guard noticed the intruder? Surely if he had, he would have
said or done something. Or did the guard know Lord Arfon was here and was
helping the magician?

 

ęTagin will kill you if he sees
you,ł she warned.

 

Arfon nodded again. He gazed back
at her, saying nothing but looking hesitant. As if he wanted to say something,
but didnłt know where to start.

 

ęWhy are you here?ł she asked.

 

He swallowed. ęTo find out if
there is anything that can be done.ł

 

She looked down at the floor,
realising only as the feeling faded that the sight of Arfon had lightened her
heart a little.

 

ęNothing. Even if there was, itłs
too late.ł

 

ęHe trusts you.ł

 

She looked at him. His eyebrows
rose suggestively, even while his expression remained grim.

 

ęI canłt do that,ł she told him. ęI
canłt kill someone. Least of all my own brother.ł

 

Arfon nodded, then sighed and sat
down on the edge of one of the chairs. All the determination fell from him and
he shook his head.

 

ęI wish the world could have
heard you say that. It is such a strange thing, that the sibling of the worst
killer in history has the gentlest of natures. It is too hard to believe, for
most people.ł

 

She frowned. ęWhat do they
believe?ł

 

He looked away. ęThat you are his
ally. You are, arenłt you?ł His gaze returned, and his eyes were now hard and
judgemental.

 

I tried to stop him, she wanted to say. But that was
a lie.

 

ęI was never able to stop him,
once he got something into his head,ł she said instead. ęNot when we were
children. Not now.ł

 

Arfon nodded, then rose and
walked to one of the large paintings. To her astonishment, it hinged away from
the wall like a door. Behind was a square opening. He paused and looked back at
her.

 

ęIf you decide to do something, I
will help you.ł

 

Then he stepped into the hole,
reached back and pulled the painting-door closed behind him.

 

Indria stared at the painting.
She felt a strange disappointment. I wanted him to stay and argue with me,
she realised. He accepted my excuse too easily.

 

But she had tried to stop
Tagin. In her mind she heard the argument begin again. No. You havenłt,
the quiet voice in the back of her mind replied. You could have stopped him
many times. But you were afraid of what hełd do if you failed, or he escaped.
You were a coward.

 

But he was her brother.

 

And your responsibility. What
would have been worse: betraying him to the Guild when he had only murdered a
few, or letting him kill again and again until he became the monster he is now?

 

Her head spun. There was no point
acting now. It was too late. Tagin was on the throne. Things could not get any
worse.

 

Oh, yes they can.

 

He would have to keep killing to
stay strong enough to repel attempts by the Guild to rescue the city. Or else
he would enslave people so that he could take power from them, over and over.

 

Slaves. Wełll end up like the
Sachakans. Only therełll be just one master, my brother, and all Kyralians will
be slaves.

 

There was nothing she could do.

 

Oh, yes there is.

 

Her mouth went dry as she thought
of it. The solution had been there right from the start. She only needed the
courage to use it. She walked slowly to the cabinet that held the few
possessions she had carried these last months and took out a small vial, paper,
ink and a pen.

 

Nothing stopped her. She resolved
to keep going until her nerve failed, or her conscience stopped arguing with
her, and stilled her hands.

 

Some time later she found Tagin
digging through a chest of dusty books in the middle of the audience chamber.

 

ęLook!ł he said as she
approached. ęBooks from the Guild.ł

 

She grimaced. ęThey smell old.ł

 

ęThey are,ł he told her. ęThis
one is a record of the Guild magicians who ruled Sachaka after the war.ł As he
dug through them dust billowed up and he coughed. He waved a hand. ęGet me a
drink, sister.ł

 

Her spine tingled as she picked
up the goblet beside the throne and moved to the back of the room. The spring
water was clear and cold. She filled the vessel and returned to Taginłs side.
As he watched, she raised the goblet to her lips and sipped.

 

Satisfied, he took the glass,
drained it and handed it back to her. She refilled it. He selected a book and
returned to the throne. She watched as he began to read. Then, as his eyes
closed and his head began to nod she set the goblet aside.

 

Moving to the throne, she leaned
close as if to look at the pages. He swayed as he looked up at her.

 

ęSister,ł he said, his eyes
slowly closing and opening again. He let the book drop. ęI am very tired.ł

 

ęBrother,ł she replied. ęI am,
too. Lean on me. Donłt worry. Iłll take care of you.ł

 

She caught him as he fell and
held him as his eyes closed. Slowly his breathing slowed and his lips turned
blue. Reaching out to take the glass and drain it, she marvelled at how the
taste of the drug was barely noticeable in the clear water, even when strong
enough to kill.

 

Then her eyes were assailed by a
flash of intense white, and a sensation too brief to register as pain.

 

* * * *

 

A
few weeksł absence had not made the tower steps any easier to climb. This time
Gilken had a burden to carry, too. The record book and writing equipment felt
heavier than they had when hełd taken them out of the room. Finally he reached
the last step, and the platform before the door. He stopped to gaze at the
plain wood and the plaque stating that this room was for the ęRecord-keeper of
the Magiciansł Guildł. For a moment he was overwhelmed by emotion.

 

Taking a deep breath, he pushed
into the room beyond.

 

There were a few signs of
disturbance. Cupboards had been opened. A glass water jug had been smashed. The
bed was at an angle, suggesting it had been moved. But the small, high table on
which he always worked remained whole and in place.

 

He put his burden down on the
table, then moved to the window. What he saw made his breath catch.

 

Though he had seen the ruins of
the city as his carriage had passed through to the Guild, it had been a
confusing jumble of stone and wood. Now, from the higher position, he could see
patterns in the devastation. The explosion that had levelled so many buildings
had fanned out from the Palace. It had missed the Guild, instead smashing
everything between the throne room and the docks. It was a terrible sight, but
it stirred a guilty relief.

 

Tagin was dead.

 

So were thousands of people.
Magicians and non-magicians. Lords and servants. Men and women. Adults and
children. Either murdered by the Mad Apprentice, or killed when all the magic
he had stolen had been released on his death.

 

Gilken stared at the view for a
long time, until he could no longer bear the sight. He turned from the window
and moved back to the high table. Taking the record book out of its wrappings,
he placed it on the sloped surface. He returned the inkpot to its place and
removed his pen from its carry case.

 

He wet the nib.

 

And began writing.

 

* * * *

 

Record
of the 235th Year.

 

It is over. When Alyk told me the
news I dared not
believe it, but an hour ago I climbed the stairs of the Lookout and saw the
truth with my own eyes. It is true. Tagin is dead. Only he could have created
such destruction in his final moments.

 

Lord Eland called us together and
read a letter sent from Indria, Taginłs sister. She told of her intention to
poison him. We can only assume that she succeeded.

 

Did she know that killing him
would release the power he contained? Did she know it would blast the Palace
and much of the city to rubble? Why did she support him despite all he did,
only to turn on him at the end?

 

We will never know. It is likely
we will see more stringent rules governing apprentices and the teaching of
higher magic. Some have even suggested higher magic be banned altogether,
though that would leave us foolishly vulnerable to attack. Still, Sachaka is no
longer a threat and we are on friendly terms with our other neighbours.

 

One suggestion gaining support is
to encourage magicians to dedicate themselves to learning and using magic for
fighting and warfare in the same way that some of us do with magical healing.
Perhaps then wełll be ready for the next threat, and not repeat the many
mistakes we made in dealing with the Mad Apprentice.

 

Change is certain. I suspect the
effects of this tragic story will haunt us for many years to come, but I am
starting to believe that we will grow stronger and wiser as a result.

 

Good things can come from awful
events, so long as we learn from our mistakes and record what we have learned
for future generations.

 

Gilken, family Balen, House
Sorrel, Record-keeper of the Magiciansł Guild.

 

* * * *

 

Afterword

 

The story of Tagin was a little runt of a tale that sprang out of
creating history for the Black Magician Trilogy. Unlike the story of the
Sachakan War, which turned into The Magicianłs Apprentice, it was not
substantial enough to fill an entire book. Yet it had too much substance to
comfortably squeeze into a short story. I always considered it good novella
material, but it is hard to justify taking time out from book schedules to
write a novella when there isnłt as great a market for them as there is for
short stories. So when Jack told me of the Australian Legends anthology,
I had the perfect excuse to tell Taginłs tale.

 

While it had begun as a lesson in the destructive potential of black
magic in the wrong hands, the story had to be more than that as a novella. I
could have written it from Taginłs perspective, and enjoyed a black ride seeing
the world through his mad eyes. But when I came up with the idea of writing it
through his sisterłs perspective I knew it would be more than a lesson or mad
ride. It would be about family, loyalty and the pain, denial and dread of being
related to someone with a somewhat shaky grip on morality, reality and his
temper.

 

Trudi Canavan